Where the Drinks Are Cold
by Trollmela
Summary: It's been four years since Rico left Miami and last saw Sonny. He's gone back to the NYPD and is working with a new partner when his boss sends them to track down a missing detective. Their search leads them to old friends in Miami, and ultimately from the Keys, where Rico finally has a chance to meet Sonny again, to the Bahamas.
1. Chapter 1

**Where the Drinks Are Cold**

_**Notes:**__ The boat Sonny owns is a Hylas 44._

_**Setting:**__ This story takes place in 1994, that is four years after the end of the series._

_**Summary:**_It's been four years since Rico left Miami and last saw Sonny. He's gone back to the NYPD and is working with a new partner when his boss sends them to track down a missing NYPD detective, who headed south for unknown reasons. Their search leads them to old friends in Miami, and ultimately from the Keys, where Rico finally has a chance to meet Sonny again, to the Bahamas, where especially Sonny and Rico's skills in working undercover are required.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"Open up! NYPD!"

Rico pounded his fist against the door. No one answered.

"Come on, Alvarez!" Simon called.

Rico waved him back, lifted his foot and, with a strong kick, broke the door open. With their guns drawn, they searched the small apartment.

"Clear!" Simon called from the bedroom.

"Clear!" Rico affirmed for the living room.

He moved on into the kitchen and stopped.

"Aw, man! Got something!" He shouted to Simon.

Philip Alvarez was tied to a kitchen chair, his head hanging down limply onto his chest. He was covered with bruises as if he had been beaten and the back of his head showed the exit wound of a bullet.

"Why does everyone we get to wind up dead?" Simon demanded angrily.

"What are you asking me for?" Rico returned calmly.

* * *

"I'm taking you off the case."

"What?" Simon demanded, completely taken by surprise. "Why?"

"It has nothing to do with your work," Lieutenant Morgan emphasized. "I simply need you more on something else."

"Which is?"

"You know Detective Tom Barnes of the VICE department?"

Rico shrugged. "A bit. We pass each other in the office."

"He took a couple weeks of vacation and hasn't come back. He hasn't shown up, we can't contact him, and he hasn't been in his apartment. From what we've been able to piece together, he flew to Miami and then rented a car to drive to the Florida Keys to follow the main suspect of his case. With no backup and no jurisdiction. Tubbs here knows the area and he's worked VICE before; besides, I'm sure he can empathize with Barnes." He visibly held back any other comments on Tubbs' experience. "I want you down there."

Rico only nodded. "What's the case and what's Barnes' connection?"

Morgan threw a thick file onto the table. "That's all we have."

"Wow," Simon exclaimed, eyes wide. Rico agreed and opened it to read.

"Just wait until you get to the end of it. Then you'll realize that 99% of this is circumstantial. Slippery as a fish, that bastard! Looks likes Barnes lost his patience. What exactly it was that triggered him, I have no idea. But before something happens, we want to send someone down there and you're it."

"So what am I doing while Rico has fun with some beach girls?"

"You're going, too, of course. Make sure Rico doesn't fly off the handle." Giving them both warning looks, he said, "You do this by the book, you hear me?"

"Sure," Rico replied. It didn't look like Morgan was reassured. Or that he gave a damn.

* * *

Rico carefully took the photograph from the wall. It showed him and Sonny on the boat, back in the early days, when Zito was still alive. They both looked carefree, caught by the snapshot as they were laughing; Trudy had probably taken it. Sonny was sitting in a fold-up chair with a beer dangling from his fingers and his head was turned upwards and back to where Rico was standing behind him, close enough to touch his back. Rico was smiling.

For a moment, Rico considered taking it with him. He had already packed a bag; their plane was leaving in two hours. He could take the photograph. He didn't.

They were flying to Miami and would then rent a car to drive south just like Barnes. The case was a complex one. Lance Cloud was their suspect, the head of a drug trafficking ring reaching from Florida all the way to New York City. But as the Lieutenant had said, all of the evidence was circumstantial. Tom Barnes had been on the case for five years; Rico knew how frustrating that could be. Still, five years alone was in his opinion not quite enough to make a man risk his career. Barnes' actions reeked of personal revenge. He of all people should know that smell.

At the airport, Simon was late. He arrived about five minutes before boarding, stumbling over apologies. His wife Maria had made him late with her unending questions of "Do you have…?" and "Have you packed…?" Rico knew Maria well enough to know it was true. She was prone to worrying and she was always stressed.

Simon Caine was nine years younger than Rico, and Rico felt each of those years. Simon could be hot-headed, and that said something because in Miami one would have said that Rico was the more impulsive one. But he and Sonny had balanced each other out; if one lost his cool, the other maintained a clear head. With Simon, it was not quite like that. While Sonny and Rico had generally become pissed about the same things, Simon could fume about stuff Rico wasn't even touched by. While Rico was still alone and lonelier than he'd ever been in Miami, Simon had been married for eight years now. They had married young and Simon couldn't imagine life without his Maria. They were trying to have their first baby, too. Leaving New York was probably not Simon's most favorite option.

"What's the file say?" Simon asked once they were seated on the plane and about to take off.

"Lance Cloud, 47 years old, born in New Jersey. Suspected of controlling the majority of New York's drug dealing activity, trafficking, and because it goes so well with his job, he also has a hand in arms smuggling, prostitution and a couple of murders for a change."

"Prime VICE material. Should get your blood pumping right up," Simon remarked.

Rico smirked. "Sure sounds like it. But surveillance hasn't got the PD anywhere, and we don't have anything else either. They suspect that he's not working on his own but rather _for_ someone."

"But no evidence."

The other man nodded. "No evidence worth taking to court. What I still don't see is Cloud's connection to Barnes. Clearly we're missing something."

Simon shrugged. "He's been on the case for a while now."

"True, but still…" He shook his head. "Not enough reason for something this drastic. There has to be something else. Something we don't know."

"Well," Simon leant back into his seat. "Hopefully we'll find out soon."

Four years was a long time. Rico had taken the flight from New York City to Miami several times but he hadn't thought he'd take it again any time soon. He could have, of course. He could have visited Trudy, Gina and Castillo at least. But being in Miami without Sonny was like limping around with one leg. You could do it, but it wasn't comfortable. When they had said their goodbyes, Sonny had said that he'd go south. And Rico didn't expect him to have gone back on that plan. Too much had happened in Miami to keep his partner there. They had kept in touch for a while. Sonny would call every now and then or send a postcard. But after a couple of years, that had died down and today, Rico didn't know where Sonny was.

By the time they touched down in Miami, Rico and Simon had a plan. The best way to find Barnes was to find Cloud. And while the Keys were definitely not Miami, Rico was sure that either his own or Lieutenant Castillo's contacts could reach that far.

Unfortunately, Ricardo Cooper's contacts had practically expired and resurrecting an undercover identity was never the best idea so he and Simon went to Castillo first. The OCB was still in the same building as last time and Rico even recognized the guard: Steven O'Connor.

"Rico? Ricardo Tubbs?" O'Connor jumped out of his seat.

Rico laughed. "Yeah, man, it's really me."

"I don't believe it." They shook hands warmly. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm on business. NYPD."

O'Conner whistled through his teeth. "Wow, didn't think you'd go back to law enforcement."

"Yeah, me neither."

For a long time, Rico had thought he _couldn't_ go back. That he'd be blacklisted in the whole country, or that the Feds on Baker's side would pay him a visit. For months after leaving Miami he had been looking over his shoulder and at the very least he had expected his pay-check not to arrive. Perhaps Castillo's contacts had saved him, perhaps it was something else.

"I'm here to see Lt. Castillo," Rico explained.

O'Connor smiled. "Sure. He's still in the same office as last time."

"Thanks."

Simon followed Rico, taking in his surroundings but not commenting on it yet. He'd be all the more vocal later. They pushed through the double doors into the bullpen. Rico's eyes immediately went to what had once been Sonny's desk. Of course it wasn't his anymore. A Hispanic-looking man in his thirties was sitting there instead, fiddling with a pencil as he spoke to someone on the phone.

"Rico!" An overjoyed voice made him turn his head to the rest of the room. Gina, smiling widely, rushed to him and threw her arms around him.

He laughed. "Hey, Gina. So good to see you!"

It really was. He breathed in the sweet smell of her perfume and gave her a good squeeze. When they pulled apart, he realized that she hadn't changed much. Perhaps the lines on her face were deeper, but if they were, her make-up concealed it well.

"Ricardo Tubbs! Welcome back to Miami!"

Trudy. She looked better than Rico remembered. He gave her a hug as well. Her hair was noticeably shorter than it used to be. And when he took a closer look, he saw a ring on her finger that he didn't recognize.

"You're engaged?" He asked.

She smiled widely in confirmation. That accounted for the content air he had noticed.

"The wedding is in four months. We were just about to send invitations. You're invited, too, of course."

"That's great! What's his name?"

"Jeremy Deeks. And don't you dare do a background check on him! He's a good man."

"And I've already done it," Gina mock-whispered to him.

He grinned. "Good to hear." He settled onto the edge of an unoccupied desk.

Only now did he take the time to have another look around the bullpen. It was busy, nearly overwhelmingly so and Rico was reminded of the first time he had entered the OCB. Simon shifted behind him, his patience clearly at an end.

"You going to introduce me to the ladies?" He asked.

The other man complied. "Simon, these are Gina Calabrese and Trudy Joplin. Gina, Trudy, this is my partner, Simon Caine."

Everyone exchanged a 'Nice to meet you' and a handshake. In the meantime, some of the other workers at the OCB who had known Rico came over to say hello. When everyone was done, Rico glanced towards the Lieutenant's office. Castillo was standing in front of the window to the bullpen, his hands hidden in the pockets of his pants and watching them through the blinds. He looked unchanged.

"Come on, Simon, time to say hello to my former boss," he said and got off the desk.

Up close, Rico did notice some changes: Castillo's hair was beginning to turn silver at his temples, but it would probably garner him even more female attention instead of less. He was smiling in his typically reserved manner, but definitely happy to see Rico.

"Welcome home, Tubbs," he said as they shook hands.

A bittersweet pang hit Rico. It was true, in a way; Miami had been his home for a long time and while he had resisted the temptation of visiting – what would be the point? Nothing was anymore the way it had been – he had missed the South, even the heat he had complained about on many occasions.

"Thank you, it's good to be back." He repeated the introductions to Simon.

Castillo gave Simon a close once-over which, as Rico could see, made his new partner slightly uncomfortable. It reminded him of all the other times he had seen people cave in front of the Lieutenant.

"I assume this is not only a courtesy visit," Castillo remarked as he went back to his clean-licked desk.

Rico shook his head. "Unfortunately not. We're tracking a detective from New York by the name of Tom Barnes."

Castillo raised an eyebrow at him.

"I know, I know, sounds just like my story, doesn't it?" Rico leant against the wall as he had done so often during briefings in Castillo's office. "But I'm not so sure. We don't know yet what happened, all we know is that apparently our NYPD detective Barnes has a bone to pick with a Lance Cloud. And we, that is the NYPD, suspect that Cloud is somewhere on the Keys."

The Lieutenant's expression remained still.

"Do you have anything on Cloud? Usually his business is up in New York, but who knows…"

"I'll look into it. How much time do you have here in Miami?"

"Not much, really. I wanted to check in here, see whether anyone knew anything. I thought I'd check Izzy next; perhaps try some other contacts…"

"That's not a good idea," Castillo disagreed. "Izzy still keeps his ear to the ground, but don't try the contacts you had as Cooper. It's too dangerous. I'll have something for you tonight. Why don't we all meet for dinner and I'll let you know."

Rico was surprised; dinners with the boss had been rare even when he was still part of the team, but then again, this was a special occasion. He accepted the page of a notebook Castillo gave him, the name and address of a restaurant scribbled on it. It sounded Asian, which was fine with him. He trusted the Lieutenant to have good taste in Asian food.

"Let Trudy and Gina know," the older man instructed.

Rico nodded. "Will do." At the door, he turned back:

"What about Switek? Is he still around?"

The question had been on his mind ever since he had seen Switek's desk, now occupied by a female detective, his name plate nowhere to be seen.

"He transferred to the unit at MIA."

"The airport? Well, that's different."

Castillo didn't comment.

* * *

"These people drive worse than in New York," Simon cried out angrily when another driver cut him off.

"Should have let me drive," Rico replied with a smirk. He didn't see what the problem was. He hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time.

"Right. Now I know why you drive like a maniac. Because you learned how to do it in a city full of maniacs!" When his partner didn't add anything else, he continued, "So, that was your team back there?"

"Not all of them," Rico said, feeling nostalgic. "Sonny wasn't there. Zito was killed a few years back, his partner, Switek, transferred, as you heard. That back there was far from the full team. It was very different when I came down here."

"You know, you used to talk about Sonny all the time. What happened that made you quit?"

"We both quit. We didn't like the way it was going. We were being used by the feds and we wouldn't stand for it. Sonny was burned out. It wasn't a decision we thought about a lot. But as much as it hurt, it was the right one."

"So where's your old partner now?"

"No idea. Last I heard from him was when he sent me a postcard from the Keys. He wrote that he was moving on. I haven't heard from him since."

"The Keys, eh? Perhaps we'll see him then. The Keys aren't that large."

Rico shot him an amused look. Simon had never left the north-east of the States, so even if the Keys really weren't that large, Simon wasn't the right person to ask.

The story Simon got was the short version. The longer version was that when Sonny had called during the first six months or so, he'd sounded only slightly less weary than he had been by the end of their careers as Miami VICE detectives. At times, they'd talked for an hour at least, while at others, there hadn't been much time for more than five minutes. Three months after arriving back in New York City, Rico had returned to the NYPD, this time to the homicide division. He hadn't wanted to return to Armed Robbery, where he had worked before going to Miami, or step into his brother's footsteps and work VICE. It had been different in Miami: the Miami VICE division had been his. But in New York, he would always associate it with his brother Rafael.

So, three months after leaving Miami, Rico had been back in business with the police. And Sonny had still been looking for a place to rest. He hadn't taken the Testarossa. He may have called it "his stolen car", but in fact, Sonny didn't steal things for himself. Unlike what almost everyone expected on meeting him, he did things, as he had said when they'd first met, "by the book". Rico didn't even know what car Sonny had driven down to the Keys. But once there, one of the last things he had heard from his partner was that he was planning to buy a boat. A _St. Vitus Dance II_. He had promised to tell him his new address, once he had one. He'd received another couple of postcards since then, but no address. And the postcards had been from the Keys, the Bahamas and even Cuba.

He had worried of course. Wondered whether Sonny was okay. Why he didn't call. But his own life in New York had continued. They had murders to solve, killers to catch. Women to woo. And he thought that Sonny would laugh at him if he showed up unannounced because he'd been worried. So he hadn't done anything.

But now he could use the opportunity which presented itself so readily. He wouldn't leave the Keys if Sonny was on them before seeing his former partner. And he knew just the place to start.

Once they were back at the hotel, Rico picked up the phone and dialed the directory assistance. He asked for a Caroline Ballard living in Atlanta.

Rico had met Caroline only a handful of times, her and Sonny's relationship having been bad even before Rico had come to Miami. But she sounded just like he remembered her, soft, almost hesitant.

_"Yes?"_

"Caroline? This is Ricardo Tubbs."

He could hear her catching her breath. _"Rico? Is- is everything okay?"_

"Yeah, yeah, everything's okay, don't worry. I was calling because I wondered whether you knew where Sonny is these days? Has he called you or contacted you in any way?"

_"He calls Billy regularly, or sends postcards."_

He chuckled. It seemed that he was getting the same treatment as his partner's son.

_"We don't speak often, usually I'm not home when he calls. But wait, let me get Billy, he might know."_

"Okay, that's great. Thanks!"

He could hear her shouting Billy's name in the background. A short while later, a young male voice said:

_"Tubbs?"_

For a moment, Rico was taken aback. He only remembered Billy as a boy, reaching perhaps as far as his waist. But he abruptly remembered that Billy wasn't a child anymore but a teenager – sixteen years old.

"Hey Billy. How are you doing?"

_"Okay."_

Tubbs smiled a bit. A typical teenager's answer – short and unenthusiastic.

"Listen, your mum told me that Sonny calls you every once in a while. Do you know where he is these days?"

_"He sails mostly,"_ Billy said, slightly more informative now.

"So he bought a new boat?"

_"Yeah, long time ago now. He sails her all over, mostly around the Keys."_

"Perfect! Do you know which island of the Keys?"

_"Key West. At least that's where his postcards usually come from. And he definitely mentioned it, too."_

"Do you know what he called his boat?"

_"Same as before: St. Vitus Dance."_

"Thanks, Billy. That was a great help!"

_"Are you going to visit him?"_

"Definitely, as soon as I can swing by."

_"Are you on a case?"_ He sounded eager, as if hungry for gory details. Rico, of course, wasn't going to give them to the kid.

"Yeah, and that's all I'm saying. Thanks again for your help!"

Switek joined them for dinner and he looked relaxed. Tubbs was glad because he'd known about Stan's gambling problem but hadn't said anything. Crockett had known, too, and Rico had trusted his partner to help Stan better than he; it hadn't worked out the way they'd hoped. He had wondered for a long time how he could have avoided Switek turning to gambling and betting. In some ways, he understood it: Zito's death had been Stan's trigger. Rico didn't want to know what would have happened had Sonny died instead of Zito. The explosion that had turned Crockett into Burnett, and left Rico and the others believing Sonny dead, had been bad enough.

"So, are you married, too, or are you still playing the old bachelor?"

Switek laughed. "Not quite the old Stan, ditched a few bad habits. I haven't married, no, but I'm going steady. You?"

Rico shrugged. "Same old, same old. No wife, but a new partner."

"I hope Sonny got a good settlement from you." He grinned.

Tubbs only rolled his eyes and turned to the Lieutenant. "What's good to eat here?"

"I've already ordered for us," Castillo replied.

Rico could see that Simon was surprised. So was he, but probably for a different reason: not because of the fact that the Lieutenant hadn't asked them beforehand, but that he hadn't seen or heard Castillo actually interact with the staff.

"Have you found anything on Lance Cloud?" Simon asked eagerly.

"Oh no!" Gina interrupted. "No business during dinner! Talk it out afterwards, boys!"

Simon ducked his head. "Sorry, ladies."

The evening was nice. Rico _had_ missed his friends in Miami, but he simply wasn't the type to fly down and visit. Moreover, he missed his partner. Simon was a good guy, no doubt about it, but he missed Sonny's southern drawl, his keen mind, the times they'd drunk beer until deep in the night. In a way, Sonny had been his best friend and brother all rolled in one. And he was missing at this table, just like Zito was in a much more permanent way. Still, everyone had a good time and while Simon would probably never understand what they had gone through together, he did seem to like everyone, each in their own way.

They finished dinner with a few drinks on stuffed stomachs. Finally, Castillo pushed a file across the table.

"Lance Cloud," he said. "I assume you know the basics so I focused on his activities in Florida. He made his first major appearance in New York when he was 32 years old; two years later he moved to Orlando for a couple of months before going back north," Castillo continued. "Apparently, he was sent down here by someone. The Orlando PD suspected Cloud of working for David Hill. Today, Hill usually spends his days on the Bahamas, but he's still very much in business."

That wasn't much more than they already knew from the NYPD.

"Was there any mention of the Keys?"

Castillo shook his head. "Not explicitly. Likely his trade route."

"Sounds like all we've got are a couple of names," Rico mused.

"We still have to check out the Keys first. If we can't find anything there, the Bahamas may be worth a closer look," Simon suggested. "And we still don't know what made Barnes up and leave."

"Are you certain Barnes is after that Cloud?" Gina threw in. "I mean, what if your detective is actually looking for Hill and thinks that Cloud might lead him there?"

"Good point." Rico gave her a nod. "We'll need everything we can get on Hill then."

Without comment, Castillo laid down another file onto the table. Rico grinned. How he had missed Castillo's insight in the cases his teams were working on. He hadn't met any other supervisor quite like him who knew each case of his subordinates as if they were his own. Almost certainly something Castillo had learned during his time with the DEA.

Simon had already pulled the file to himself and opened it. Copies of surveillance photos lay on top, showing a man who, according to the file, was fifty years old. His short hair had already turned completely gray and a beard covered his chin. In the pictures he always wore dark, pinstriped suits and orange-tinted sunglasses; one photo showed him smoking a cigar. The most recent pictures were five years old.

"Is there nothing more recent?" Simon asked.

"No," the Lieutenant replied. "He supplies the entire US east coast and parts of Canada with drugs from South America, splitting off some to sell for transport to Europe. He's also involved in trafficking arms and people, again mainly to the US. Currently he keeps a residence on Andros." After a pause, added: "This is all I can give you for now. If you need anything else later, give me a call."

"Yeah!" Trudy agreed. "Don't forget that while we're not exactly next door, we're a whole lot closer than the NYPD."

Tubbs gave them a grateful look. Knowing he had friends helping him if he needed them made him feel much more at ease. It wasn't that he didn't have friends at the NYPD; he even had some friends left from the beginning of his career in New York. But this team in Miami would always be special for him.

Their dinner party broke up a couple of hours later when all other diners were already gone. Outside, Gina pulled Rico aside.

"If you see Sonny, would you tell him to give us a call up here?" She asked. "Or send a postcard? We're worried."

"Billy said he was somewhere on Key West. I'll try and find him but I can't promise you."

She smiled sadly. "Come on, Rico. Simon is nice and all, but he's not Sonny."

"He's my partner."

Gina sighed. "Just… if you do see him, give him that message, okay?"

"Sure, Gina. If I see him, I'll tell him to give you a call."

"Thanks! That's all I'm asking."

That night, Rico didn't sleep well. The food – as good as it had been – was heavy in his stomach and he was tossing and turning. When he finally did fall asleep, he dreamt of explosions, fast car rides and shootouts with Uzis. At the end, Lou Rodriguez shook Castillo's hand for a job well done; then, Sonny Burnett, Sonny Crockett, Ricardo Cooper and Rico Tubbs got on a plane together to Laos, from where they'd be taking the St. Vitus back to Florida. It made absolutely no sense.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

They'd rented a Ford Taurus at the airport and that was the car they'd be taking to the Keys. It wasn't a very impressive car and Rico wished that he hadn't sold his Cadillac, but there was nothing for it.

Since Simon was still too much of a wuss to let Rico drive, the younger man was the one manning the wheel. They'd switch later anyway. At the hotel they'd been told that the drive would take three hours; knowing traffic in Miami, Rico thought it would most likely be longer.

They ended up switching much sooner because Simon couldn't keep his eyes off the landscape. Rico laughed at him although he had to admit that all the green _was_ a marvel. And while he had had a chance to see some of Florida before, for Simon the "City Slicker" it was an entirely new experience. Rico could well remember what Sonny's reaction had been when he saw New York City.

After over an hour, they reached the first island in the chain: Key Largo. While at the beginning they did not see much of how close the sea actually was, as plenty of houses sat on either side of the Overseas Highway, they soon crossed to the next island and to the one after that and at some points, the only thing to be seen on the side of the road was the turquoise blue of the sea. Often green shrubbery impeded their view but it was beautiful either way. Tourist season was probably the entire year but most of the tourists seemed to come for the fishing rather than for any other reason and despite the traffic, it was a relaxed drive.

They made frequent stops at Sheriffs' offices and all other law enforcement offices they came across. It seemed that Barnes had taken the same approach before them, only he had a head start of two weeks. Their task certainly wasn't an easy one. Luckily, most of the people Rico and Simon asked remembered him at least vaguely. From them they found out that Barnes was, as Gina had suggested, looking not only for Cloud but also for Hill. He had shown pictures to the officers, but they had not been able to help him.

And judging by the impression the people had got, Barnes had become increasingly frustrated with his bad luck. Until Marathon, the island right in the middle of the Keys. The county sheriff did not only remember Barnes with perfect clarity, but also Hill passing through a few weeks before.

"Photographic memory," he said, pointing a finger at his forehead. "It's definitely got its uses."

"Great," Simon said, a lot more enthusiastic than he had been since they'd started drawing blanks. "What can you tell us about them?"

"Well, this fellow there," he pointed at Hill's photograph, "I stopped him for speeding. He was driving one of those expensive cars, a Viper. He was polite, but it looked like a put-on to me. But you can't arrest folk for being impolite _or_ thinking you're an idiot. Anyway, I gave him a ticket and that was it. Then your other guy shows up, Barnes, from the NYPD."

Simon interrupted him. "So he told you that he's from the NYPD?"

"Sure did. Showed me his ID and all. He wanted to look something up in my office and I can't let just anyone do that."

"Do you know what he looked up?" Rico inquired.

"Sorry, I can't tell you exactly. But from what I saw passing him once he was looking at boats."

Simon and Rico exchanged a look. "Boats?" They wondered out loud.

The sheriff shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry, boys, don't know what that was about. He was very interested in the first guy. Until Barnes came, I didn't know it was a fake name."

"What name did Hill give you?"

"Dave Milton. Barnes seemed to suspect Hill was using a fake name. Seems Milton wasn't the first one."

"I can well imagine," Rico sighed. "Thanks for your help, Sheriff."

"You're welcome. I hope you find them."

They arrived on Key West in the afternoon. They were famished, so they stopped to eat at a snack bar. Then they found the local sheriff's office. This time, the sheriff was a forty-something year-old woman, with long brown hair that she had pulled back from her face into a ponytail. Her nametag read 'Merritt'.

"We're looking for two men," Rico said, taking out the photos. "The first one is Lance Cloud, the other is called David Hill, but he may be using a different name, such as Dave Milton."

Merritt picked them up.

"What have they done?" She asked.

"They're suspected of drug trafficking and distribution. One of our colleagues is looking for them. He must have been here about two weeks ago?"

She nodded absently, apparently remembering something.

"NYPD, right? I think his name was Burns, or…"

"Barnes," Simon threw in. "Tom Barnes."

"Exactly! I remember him being here. We don't get a lot of NYPD officers around here."

"I can imagine. Do you remember what he wanted?"

"He was a bit vague about what exactly he was after. He said that it was an NYPD investigation. He asked some questions, looked something up and that was it. I offered to help him out if he needed us, but he said that he could handle it."

"Do you remember what he asked or looked up?"

"He didn't ask me, so I don't know. And Billy, the one you'd need, is on vacation. But when I passed Barnes, I noticed that he was looking at boats registered on Key West."

Simon raised an eyebrow.

"Hill must have a boat," Rico answered his partner's unvoiced question. He had mulled over the question since Marathon.

"So where is it? Where would he keep the boat?"

Merritt stared at them, blinking. When she realized they were actually being serious, she laughed loudly.

"If it were a cruise ship, the options would be limited. But a yacht or a small boat, that could be anywhere!" she told them. "So I'm sorry, but I can't tell you where the boat is or what it's called."

Rico's partner deflated. Tubbs wasn't so easily discouraged.

"Can we use your computer to do some research?" He asked.

"Sure."

Unfortunately, the computer was no help. Neither David Hill, nor Dave Milton owned a boat registered in any of the ports in Key West. Perhaps he was using another name, or the boat wasn't his or they were missing something else.

"Well, what about your other guy? Lance Cloud?" Merritt asked when she saw the men's dejected faces.

"Good idea."

And with that, Simon was back to typing. "Got it!" He said loudly. "He's got a boat registered to him called _Little Mary_."

"Where?" Rico demanded.

"At the Golden Anchor Marina."

"Let's go take a look then. Thanks for the help, Sheriff Merritt!"

"You're welcome! If you need anything else, let me know."

They should probably have expected it, but it was disappointing nonetheless. _Little Mary_ wasn't in her slip. An elderly man in his late 60s was on the boat in the next slip so they went to him instead. He introduced himself as Mark.

"Do you know the man who owns the boat next to yours?"

"Mr. Cloud? Well, I wouldn't say _know_, but I see him around regularly, yeah."

"Do you know when he set out and whether he was alone?"

"He left about… last week, yes, pretty sure. Friday or Saturday."

"Was he alone?"

"As far as I could see. He had a couple of visitors but I think he left alone. But his boat is big enough to hide a girl or two on there." Mark winked.

Rico showed him the photos. "Do you recognize any of these men?"

The old man took his time studying them. Finally he pointed to Hill. "That's one of his friends. But he definitely wouldn't have left with Mr. Cloud."

"Why not?"

"Because I know for a fact that that guy has a yacht of his own, and I don't mean a little boat like mine here. I've only seen it once but that thing probably cost more than I make in a year."

"Do you remember the yacht's name?"

"I think he called it _Hunter_."

"Do you remember what the owner's name as well?"

"Can't help you there, sorry. I never met him personally. Not my kind of guy either, if you know what I mean. May have looked all elegant in his suits but I bet you he had less honesty in his little finger than I in my whole body."

Rico nodded his understanding. "Thanks for your help."

"If you think of anything else, or Cloud comes back, would you mind leaving us a message at our hotel?" Simon inquired, handing Mark a card of their hotel with their phone number.

"Sure, no problem."

They left the man's boat and the marina behind. It was late by now and they decided to go find their hotel. The PD in New York had arranged for two rooms for one week with the option of extending their visit if necessary. Rico called Merritt from his room to ask her to do some digging for them on the _Hunter_. In the meantime, Simon and Rico went downstairs to the hotel restaurant to have dinner.

They had just about finished when a waiter came over to tell them that they had a phone call waiting for them. Simon offered to go to speak with what was probably Merritt but Rico thought of another boat he was interested in and went himself.

It was indeed Merritt.

"I can't find any boat called _Hunter_ which is registered in Florida. I think you may be looking at a boat which is at home elsewhere," she told him.

Rico nodded absently. "We know Hill mostly lives on the Bahamas."

"There you go then. Sorry, but in that case I can't help you."

"You've already done a lot for us, thanks. Just one last request: could you look up whether there's a boat registered called the _St. Vitus Dance_?"

"Sure. Another suspect?"

"No. An old friend."

"Just a moment."

He could hear her clacking on a computer keyboard in the background. After a moment, she was back on the phone.

"Registered to a Sonny Crockett right here on the Keys. I can't find his home address but he keeps his boat in the Oceanside Marina."

"Thank you! Really, thanks for your help!"

Rico already knew what his evening plans would be.

"I'm going out tonight," he told Simon once he had returned to their table. "Do you need the car?"

His partner raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Don't you think you're getting a bit old for the clubbing scene?"

"Very funny, Si."

"Whatever. You take the car. I'll call Maria and perhaps take a jog along the beach and buy some postcards to send home. What about tomorrow?"

"We can make plans over breakfast," Rico replied.

"Meet at nine?"

Rico nodded. It meant more sleep than he got at home and who knew when his night would end.

They both went upstairs to their rooms. Rico took a short shower and put on some fresh clothes. Then he pocketed the piece of paper on which he had scribbled Sonny's address, picked up the car keys, and left the hotel.

The Oceanside Marina was different from the Golden Anchor Marina. It didn't offer as many amenities as the Golden Anchor and seemed to be more popular with amateur fishermen and others for whom owning a boat was a passion, but did not necessarily earn the big bucks.

Rico could practically feel his skin humming with excitement but forced himself to walk calmly past the boats, always looking out for a boat called _St. Vitus Dance_ or the owner himself. It seemed like he had gone through almost the whole marina before he finally read her name. To an untrained eye, this _St. Vitus_ looked much the same as the one before in Miami. But the model was a different one, even Rico could see that much.

He jumped onto the deck. He walked across the deck and looked around, but couldn't see anyone. Then, suddenly, he heard the sound of a gun being cocked behind him.

"Stop right there! Now turn around slowly!"

Rico laughed. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. "What do you want me to do? Stop or turn around?"

He didn't need to _see_ the other man's face to know that he froze, even lowered his outstretched arms with the gun in surprise.

"Rico?"

Tubbs turned.

"Damn! Rico!"

Sonny jumped up the last steps of the stairway leading into the cabin, leaving the gun on the floor and hauled Rico into a strong, warm hug. The other man laughed and wrapped his own arms around his former partner. It felt like they remained pressed against each other for a long time and yet it was still too soon when they parted.

Sonny looked different. He had cut his hair to a length somewhere in the middle of what it had been when they had met and the length of when they had parted. It was paler, but not in any way grey yet. His former partner looked at ease, wearing white pants and a pale blue v-neck shirt.

"Am I interrupting something?" Rico asked with a wink and a gesture down to the cabin.

Sonny seemed to still be caught up in surprise, as he did not immediately get what Rico meant. But then he laughed:

"Hell, no, and even if... I can't believe you're here! How did you find me?"

"Billy and a nice officer from the Florida Keys PD. Billy gave me the name of your boat and the PD gave me its location and here I am."

"When did you arrive on the Keys?"

"This afternoon."

"A few hours in town and already abusing the system!"

Rico chuckled. "You're not the only one I'm looking for."

The blond man sobered. "You're here on business? A bit far from New York, don't you think?"

"I know, believe me, I know." He shook his head. "Let's not talk shop right away, shall we? I'm on the Keys for business, but right now I'm here for you."

"Aww, you say the sweetest things!" Crockett grinned.

"Yeah, I know. Now get your man some beer, I'm thirsty."

They opened a couple of beers and clinked them together. The sun was setting, throwing a magnificent golden light across the deck, but Rico wouldn't have missed this if it had been pouring.

"So, what have you been up to lately?" The New Yorker asked, watching Sonny who was lying back in his folding chair, legs spread comfortably and the beer dangling from his fingers.

"Oh you know, this and that."

"Yeah," Rico laughed, "right. Wanna elaborate?" He didn't blame Sonny for having been out of contact. It happened. And who knew, perhaps he would have sent a card just a couple of weeks later.

"Fishing. Taking the boat out every once in a while, sometimes taking little trips to the Bahamas and other places around here. It's nice."

"Aren't you bored yet?"

Sonny shrugged. "Sure, sometimes. I still get that feeling all over my skin which makes me itch to go chase after some bad guy."

"Dress in fancy clothes and drive Ferraris," Rico added.

"That too. But with the way things ended, it's a good thing we got out when we did. We were lucky we got out at all."

The other man nodded.

"I earn a few bucks here and there for fixing up somebody's boat, stuff like that," Sonny continued.

"As long as you haven't stooped to transporting coke for real now."

"Nah, where's the fun in that when you know all the tricks of both trades?"

"Sometimes they invent new ones."

"Doubt it," Sonny shook his head. "Overall, my life is just as boring as I never wanted it to be."

"Boredom looks good on you," Rico noted. It was true. Sonny looked more relaxed and the lines on his face had eased. Apparently, not being constantly bombarded by angst and grief had a positive effect. And what was it that Sonny had said when they parted? _'Somewhere further south, somewhere where the water is warm, the drinks are cold, and I don't know the names of the players.'_ It seemed that he had gotten exactly that.

"What about you? Still chasing criminals in the name of justice?" Sonny gave the last word a note which was not quite mocking but certainly involved some amusement.

"Yeah. Something like that. It's a bit colder in New York, and they're dressed differently, but it comes down to the same thing. Got a new partner-"

"Admit it, he's younger than me." Sonny interrupted.

Rico rolled his eyes and it was all the answer the blond man needed. He laughed loudly.

"You done with the couple routine?" Rico demanded, not half as annoyed as he pretended to be.

"Sure, go on."

"He's happily married and all - everything we never managed to do right. He's back at the hotel. We're looking for a New York detective who came down here chasing one of his suspects on his own time."

"Sounds familiar."

"Except that he should have been back at work a week ago and he didn't show. Both suspects own a boat-"

"_Both_ suspects? Who's the other one?"

"Drug kingpin. Mostly lives on Andros on the Bahamas."

"Names?"

"Lance Cloud is the one Barnes - that is our detective - was initially chasing; David Hill is his boss. He's used other names, Dave Milton was his most recent one. His boat's name is apparently _Hunter_, Cloud's is called _Little Mary_."

Sonny mused over it. "Can't say I've heard of either of them but I've kept out of other people's business."

"Wasn't expecting you to get into it."

Crockett gave him a look as if to say that now he was in it and that there was no use trying to keep him out. He stood and stretched.

"What do you think, wanna put my last catch on the grill?"

Although Rico had eaten not long ago, he could eat again. "Depends. How old is your last catch?"

"Haha," Sonny returned dryly. "Get up and help me set the grill up."

They spent the rest of the night talking about other stuff. Rico told him about their old team back in Miami and managed to squeeze out a promise to write a postcard or call. He told stories about New York and some of his funnier cases - rare as they were -, and they reminisced about things they'd shared in the past. They talked and drank beer until late into the night and by the time they were tired enough to consider sleep, Rico wasn't legally allowed to drive a car anymore.

"Look at us," the New Yorker laughed lowly. "I don't remember being this easily tired years ago."

"We weren't," Sonny agreed with a yawn. "Wanna take the other bedroom?"

They left the grill and the burnt down coals in it, put the dishes in the sink and took out some extra bedding. Rico knew the drill and while the layout may have changed, Sonny's habits hadn't. Lastly, Rico left a message for Simon at the hotel; they didn't share a room and he didn't want Simon to be surprised that Rico wasn't in.

The next morning, Sonny's alarm clock woke them. They had set it in time for Rico to drive back to the hotel. When the New Yorker got ready to say goodbye, Sonny locked the cabin and jumped onto the dock.

"What are you waiting for?" Crockett called back to the other man, who was still standing on the boat in surprise. But at his friend's call he shook it off and quickly caught up, grinning and not questioning the southerner.

It felt almost like old times; the two of them in a car and on a mission. Except that they weren't in Miami, Sonny wasn't driving and they weren't sitting in a Ferrari.

"You don't have to do this," Rico said.

"Are you kidding me? This is the most excitement I've had in ages!"

Rico refrained from making up any more arguments. The truth was, that he was glad, too, to have his old partner with him. He had nothing against Simon. He had simply been spoiled by Sonny.

Simon was already sitting at the breakfast table. He looked surprised that Rico wasn't alone, but after a moment, a flash of recognition crossed his face.

"Sonny Crockett!" He greeted, standing when they reached his table and offering his hand.

Sonny shook it. "I see my reputation precedes me." He raised an eyebrow at Rico.

The other man shrugged.

"Seen your picture enough times," Simon explained. "I didn't realize you were here on the Keys."

He sat back down. Rico and Sonny pulled out chairs to do the same.

"Didn't know myself until yesterday," Rico said. "Went to see him and now he can't keep his nose out of our business."

Simon and Sonny chuckled.

"Well, what can I say, I could never resist a good case."

Simon nodded. "Welcome aboard then. I'm sure you know that you can't be working with us officially save as an informant."

Crockett laughed. "What, you think I'm interested in recognition? Not only 'no' but 'hell, no'."

Rico ordered coffee for them both, then gathered food at the breakfast buffet. With a plate piled high he returned to the table where Simon and Sonny were talking casually. The coffee had arrived and Sonny went off next to get something to eat.

"So, how did you find him?" Simon asked.

"Merritt. I knew he might be somewhere on the Keys so I gave it a try and Merritt found his boat."

"A boat is good. We might need that."

"That wasn't my reason for looking, but you may be right. If we don't get anywhere here we'll have to try the Bahamas."

Sonny came back and set his plate down. "What is it I hear about the Bahamas?"

"Remember what I told you about David Hill? If we don't find anything on Hill, Cloud or Barnes today, we may have to travel to the Bahamas," Rico explained.

"And what a hardship that will be," Simon added dryly.

Crockett laughed. "My boat can get you anywhere. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. You guys are rookies here on the Keys, but I've been around for a while. I know a few people worth asking."

"Even better. Let the _expert_ handle things." Rico grinned. His emphasis on 'expert' had not gone unnoticed.

Sonny merely shot him a look.

After a short stop in their rooms to freshen up – and for Rico to change clothes – they went back on the road. This time, Sonny was driving.

"I know a couple of guys in boat repairs. If we're lucky, they'll know Hill or Cloud," he said.

They were lucky, at least in part. Patrick and Steve were two young men barely in their early twenties who worked in a boatyard and apparently knew almost every boat floating around the Keys. That included Cloud's. And if they looked a little stoned, the three men ignored it.

"Real shady guy, dude," Steve was saying.

"Yeah," Patrick confirmed. "I keep expecting to find dope on his _Mary_."

"She's a good one, dude. Tuned up to the max."

"She could really give the Coast Guard a run for the money," Patrick laughed loudly, abruptly catching himself with a look at the three men. He may have been stoned but he wasn't stupid enough not to know cops when he saw them.

"I'm sure she could," Sonny only commented. "Do you know where she is at the moment?"

"Usually she's at the Golden Anchor Marina-"

Simon was about to say that she wasn't there, but Steve went on:

"-_but_ last time Cloud mentioned planning several trips to the Andros."

"He told you that?" Patrick asked skeptically.

His friend nodded. "Yeah, dude."

Rico raised an eyebrow at that. He wondered why Cloud wasn't more careful about what he was planning, but either he liked opening his big mouth or he didn't think two guys barely of age were a risk.

"You know the other boat as well?" He asked.

"I've seen her, dude. Big, big, yacht," Steve replied. "I'd love to have one of those one of these days."

Patrick nodded in agreement.

"Can't tell you where she lies. But if he has as much dough as he looks like he has, he'll have some villa at the ocean with a private jetty."

Sonny sighed. "Alright then. Thanks and remember: we were-"

"-never here, yeah, we got that," Patrick finished.

Rico gave them a twenty, hoping it would be enough to buy their silence, and the three men left.

"Doesn't look as if we're getting around that trip to the Bahamas," Crockett commented as they drove away.

Rico silently agreed. "Let's go back to the hotel and make plans there. It's time for lunch anyway."

"We just had breakfast!" Simon protested.

"Rico is a bottomless pit, and a demanding one at that," Sonny commented. "I'm surprised you haven't noticed yet."

"Traitor," his former partner muttered not quite under his breath.

At the hotel reception, a message from Mark awaited them. Rico quickly read through the note a hotel employee had scribbled on Mark's behalf.

Once he was done, he folded the paper and put it in his pocket. "Lunch is postponed," he said. "Lance is back on the Keys. Let's go get Merritt."

"I'd call ahead first," Sonny advised, so Simon went to the pay phone in the lobby.

Rico was watching his former partner. Sonny had his hands in his pockets, and was looking around. When he caught Rico looking at him he asked:

"What?"

Rico shook his head. "Nothing. Just not used to you being there. It's good."

Sonny knew exactly what his former partner meant. It was good to be back together; good to be working a case together.

Rico laughed and was just about to say more when his fellow New Yorker returned.

"She's waiting for us."

"Chances are that he won't admit to it," Rico said. "And then what do we have?"

"We'll see," Simon replied. "Perhaps we'll get lucky and find something on the boat to arrest him.

Sonny snorted as he parked the rental.

"'Cause he'll just leave the dope lying around in the open."

Rico shut the car door behind himself, glancing at his current partner.

"Well, we've got to-"

The rest of Simon's words were abruptly cut off by a loud explosion. They swung around towards the marina to see a column of smoke rising. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they shook off their shock and started running towards the explosion site. Merritt's car came to a screeching halt behind them. It would be her job to call in the fire department and an ambulance, just in case.

Sonny was ahead of them and Rico wondered whether he even had a weapon. He didn't have time to find out. When they arrived at the slips, they were confronted with a sight of destruction. The boat hit was in pieces, bits of it blown onto the dock and other vessels, others floating on or sinking in the water. Some of the boats right next to the site had been damaged as well, either by the blast or by flying debris. As things settled, people started coming out of their own boats to see what had happened, calling to each other to see whether everyone was all right.

The targeted ship was Cloud's, or at least it was the ship lying in his slip.

"There goes our witness," Sonny remarked tonelessly.

"We don't even know whether he was on board. Let's check the boat and the surroundings for injured," Rico instructed unnecessarily. It was unlikely that there were any survivors on the _Little Mary_. It got everyone moving. By now, Merritt and her deputy Jimmy Collins had arrived and they split up.

Rico found Mark lying stunned on the deck of his boat.

"You okay?" Rico asked. "No, don't sit up. Tell me how you're feeling." He kept his hand flat on the older man's chest to keep him lying down.

"Dizzy," Mark replied with great effort. "I was waiting for you guys and sitting on deck when suddenly: _Boom!_ I didn't even see anyone."

The bomb could have been triggered from a distance, Rico thought. Or it had been timed. They would have to deal with that later.

"Did you hit your head when you fell?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, stay down and rest for now. I'm sure we'll have an ambulance here soon, the EMTs can check you out."

The older man complied.

It took a couple of hours to sort everything out. At the end of the day, they knew that had only been one victim – Lance Cloud, who was recognizable enough, if not exactly pretty – and some small injuries such as Mark's concussion. Witnesses stated that Cloud came back alone and no one had visited him. No one had seen any strangers around either, which made a timed bomb more likely.

"Cloud and Barnes leave on the boat," Simon summarized what they knew over dinner. Deputy Collins had recommended a Cuban restaurant at the sea side to them and they had followed his advice. "Cloud comes back alone. Where did they go and where's Barnes now?"

"Option one," Rico picked up, "Cloud drove out just far enough to murder Barnes and throw him overboard. Perhaps he knew about Barnes being a cop."

"Cloud was away for longer than just to drop a body," Simon argued. "And he mentioned to Steve and- what's his name?" He glanced questioningly at Sonny.

"Patrick," Crockett provided.

"-they said that Cloud had plans to go to the Andros."

Rico shrugged and swallowed a bite of his steak. "He could have paid Hill a visit afterwards."

"Or," Sonny joined, "Option two: Cloud went to see Hill _with_ Barnes, dropped your detective off there and returned. In that case we still don't know whether Barnes is alive or not. Leaving him aside, who had an interest in Cloud getting killed? And who has the means to pull it off with a bomb? Why in the boat yard, a couple of hours after he came back, instead of somewhere on the ocean, which would have minimized the risk of witnesses?"

"The bomb must have been planted only after Cloud arrived on the Keys," Simon concluded.

Rico shook his head. "Witnesses saw no strangers," he reminded his partner.

Sonny shrugged at the same moment as Rico looked up as it dawned on him:

"Not a stranger then. Rather someone who is seen around the marina regularly and wouldn't be noticed."

"Like what?" Simon asked. "A postman? Do postmen even deliver the mail to boats? As for who wanted Cloud dead, if this were New York, I'd say that there's no need to look far. But here?" He shook his head. "I'll be right back, I need a bathroom break."

The New Yorker got up and left the table. Sonny turned to Rico.

"Let's leave Cloud aside," he suggested. "I'm not saying his death isn't important for us, but it's not our case, it's Sheriff Merritt's. What _we_ want is to find Barnes, so that's what we're going to do."

"So, how do we want to do that?"

The other man laughed. "You're asking me?"

Rico shrugged, unrepentant. "We always discussed how we would do a case."

Sonny gave him a knowing look. This was nothing like when they had been partners. Officially, he shouldn't even be on the case. And he shouldn't be the one Rico was asking.

"I'd hate to have to play it by ear. But it looks as if we may not have little choice. An undercover angle is dangerous and probably useless: we know Cloud is going to get out of jail sooner rather than later and then he'll let Hill know that someone is looking for Barnes. Hell, as far as we know, they might even kill Barnes once they know we're looking for him and we'll have blown his cover. Barnes is on his own, he has no backup, neither officially nor unofficially-"

"How do we know that?" Rico interrupted him.

The southerner visibly started. "You're right, we don't. We're assuming it. What kind of background does Barnes have? Was he ever in the military? Any friends of his live on the Bahamas or vacation there regularly?"

Rico shrugged. "No idea."

"Well then, you had better find out. But one thing is certain: we're going so you and Simon had better start packing."

"You'll prepare the St. Vitus?"

Crockett nodded. "Of course. Tomorrow morning soon enough for you?"

"It's perfect."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"We could have taken a plane. Would've been faster," Simon commented as he and Rico drove back to their hotel, having already dropped Sonny off.

"Hill has a yacht, too. If something happens, it's better if we've got a boat," Rico replied easily. It was a weak argument. He didn't know how fast Hill's yacht was; for all he knew, Hill's yacht could easily leave Sonny's behind.

But Rico didn't have enough sense to feel bad about it. He was looking forward to working a case with Sonny again. It was as if an amputated limb had been returned to him, one he hadn't even known how much he was missing.

"True," Simon admitted. And with that, to Rico's relief, they were done with the subject.

Two days later Rico woke to the sound of waves crashing against the hull. The up and downward motion of the boat was something he had to get used to again, but he assumed that it wouldn't take him long.

The bed next to him was empty. Sonny had to be up then and, on listening, Rico could hear him puttering about on deck.

First thing to get was coffee. With a cup of the hot brew, he climbed upstairs. The sun had nearly risen, so it was still early. When sailing, Sonny enjoyed watching the sun rise, while on land he tended to get up later.

"Good morning," Sonny greeted him. "You're up early."

"Thought I'd keep you company," Rico replied. "How are we doing?"

"Not bad at all. There'll be a strong breeze today and tomorrow; that should help us move on quickly."

"Good."

An easy silence fell, with Rico drinking his coffee and Sonny taking care of the boat. The cockpit was too small for two, so Rico sat down on the stairs behind Sonny. He remembered having done the same plenty of times before. Only the vessel was a different one and he found that he missed Elvis.

"Ever regretted retiring?" He asked.

"Ever regretted not retiring?" Sonny returned with a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. After a pause, he replied: "Not usually. It's easier. You don't have to wonder when you'll lose someone."

"You'll still lose them. You just won't hear about it until after it happens."

"True. And maybe I'll wonder whether I could have prevented it. But things are the way they are now, and I don't regret that." After another pause, Sonny asked: "Do you like it in New York?"

Rico shrugged. "It's home, in a way. I miss Miami, too, sometimes. The place; the people." He leaves the 'You' unsaid, but he thinks Sonny can hear it anyway.

The blond man nodded in understanding.

Eventually they got a call from Castillo. While the NYPD was to check whether Barnes knew anyone who lived on the Bahamas, they had asked their former boss whether he could give them a contact on the Bahamas.

He gave them a name: Nick Pelton.

The day they arrived in Drigg's Hill on South Andros it looked exactly like the place had jumped out of a leaflet for vacationers: bright, sunny, warm, clear, turquoise water.

Sonny had called ahead and booked a cottage for them. Three men on one boat had been enough for the voyage. The blond man knew the owners, had stayed there only twice before because he usually slept on the boat. Simon called the office to let them know they had arrived and to ask about their previous inquiry; but the PD had come up empty. Sonny, in the meantime, found them a rental, which Rico took to go inform the local police of their investigation.

A couple of hours later, they finally got a chance to meet Castillo's contact at a small airport.

"Call me Nick Peck. Let's make one thing clear: I'm not here for fishing and the only reason I agreed to meet with you and help you out is because I owed Castillo a favor. But if I get any feeling at all that your presence here might turn me into shark bait, you're on your own."

That cleared up any questions they might have had about Nick's current occupation: he was working undercover. His accent was not American either, but rather British.

"What organization do you work for?" Simon inquired.

Nick shot him a hard look, then swept their surroundings with his eyes. He had probably done it at least five times before. They were standing in the middle of an airfield with no one else in sight. Unless one of them had a microphone hidden somewhere, they were the only ones who'd hear.

"Interpol. We've been building up contact with Hill for over two years now. Castillo said you needed an introduction? I've got to tell you that now especially is not a good time. Bloody hell, just last week he blew up his lieutenant!"

"Lance Cloud?" Rico asked.

"Yeah. How do you know?"

"We were following him but were too late. Has Hill made any new acquaintances in the past three or four weeks or so?"

Nick pulled a face. "Apparently you guys know a few things we don't."

"I'll take that as a yes. We're not so much interested in Hill as in that new acquaintance of his. What name is he using?"

"Tommy Freeman. Who is he?"

Rico suppressed a sigh. The three men exchanged looks. So they had found their missing detective at least.

"He said Cloud was a snitch and made sure the guy didn't leave his boat alive," Nick continued. "So I'm asking again: who is he?"

"He's a VICE detective of the NYPD. His real name is Tom Barnes. We've been following him since New York."

"A copper gone rouge? Brilliant! What's his problem with Hill then?"

"We don't know yet."

"You know what? I don't care either. But you get that half-cocked fool off my case and I'll leave him to you instead of getting him in more trouble than he can ever get out of!"

"If he's really responsible for Cloud's death, he'll be kicked off the force anyhow, and the prosecution as well as Internal Affairs will be on him."

"Better than dead. Hill gave him a place on Queen's Highway to use. I suggest you find him there first. Just remember that the place will be bugged."

"Don't worry," Sonny put in. "None of us are new at this. Rico and I worked undercover for years."

"Right. If you need anything more, think twice before you call me. But if you must…" he scribbled his number onto a scrap of paper. On the back, he added two addresses on Queen's Highway. "That's where you can find your Freeman or Barnes, or whatever."

"Thanks."

"Sure. Once you're off this island, you can tell Castillo that my favor to him is paid in full."

Barnes' house was a one-story building in a row of others. In typical stake-out fashion, they waited for their target in front of his house in the car. It was pure coincidence that they didn't have to wait long and Rico sent a prayer of thanks for that: he wouldn't have been able to stand Sonny's and Simon's bickering over a tuna sandwich much longer.

"So, how do we do this? Go in there and kidnap him or hope he's sensible enough to leave the house with us?" Sonny asked.

"The first," Simon said at the same time as Rico replied:

"The second."

Sonny gave them a look.

"The second it is."

The southerner hung back as Rico knocked sharply on the pale blue door. It didn't take long for Barnes to open. At first, his expression remained blank, then he seemed to recognize at least one of the two New Yorker detectives.

"Let's talk outside, Mr. Freeman," Rico suggested.

The man didn't look as if he wanted to comply, but apparently realized that he wouldn't be able to get rid of them. Simon took him by the arm and they went back to their car. It was as good a place as any.

Sonny took the driver's seat, Rico the passenger and Simon and Barnes the back.

"I couldn't call," Barnes said. "They're watching me almost every second. You shouldn't have come here."

"Yeah, well, believe me, if the lieutenant hadn't told us to chase you down, we wouldn't be here," Simon replied.

"Detective Caine and Tubbs, correct?" For the first time, he seemed to actually look at them.

"One hundred points for the candidate!" Simon snarked.

Barnes ignored it. and turned to Crockett.

"And you are?"

"Sonny Crockett. An old friend."

"We saw Cloud get blown up," Rico commented with feigned casualness.

"Hill suspected him of being a snitch," Barnes returned.

"And I'm sure that has nothing to do with you whispering it in his ear," Rico said.

The other man's expression hardened.

"I'm finishing this," he declared.

"And what exactly is 'this'?"

"None of your business."

"Right. Look, I know what it's like to want revenge. I've lost family and wanted to track those responsible down and put a bullet in their head. Hell, I've done it. But it doesn't solve anything and you're risking your job!"

"Then I've already lost it," Barnes merely replied. "I appreciate the work you've put into finding me. I'm going back to New York, but not now. You, on the other hand, would do well to leave as soon as possible."

He opened the car door. Simon held him back, but Sonny said:

"Let him go."

The New Yorker gave his partner a questioning look, and Rico agreed with a mute nod. Simon grimaced but complied. Barnes shut the car door behind himself and went back into his house without a backward glance.

"Now what?" Simon asked.

"We can hardly take him back kicking and screaming," Rico replied. "Let's go back to the cottage and call the office."

"I think we're being watched," Sonny warned and started the engine. "I don't think we'll have much chance here to lose them. Not enough streets. Caine, you wanna plaster your nose any more to the window so they know they've been spotted?"

"Sorry."

Simon leant back in his seat and pointedly avoided looking towards the car where two guys were evidently watching Barnes' house. But as Sonny pulled away, they made no move to follow them.

"Think we've put Barnes in danger?" Simon asked.

"They won't know who we are. Hard to say. But Barnes was certainly right about Hill watching him."

Rico got their Lieutenant on the line and gave him a report of their meeting with Barnes. He almost expected their boss to call them back home.

"We could leave it to the locals," he remarked when a long silence followed.

"Is Barnes in danger?" Lieutenant Morgan inquired.

"Hell, he's made friends with a drug kingpin. Danger comes with the territory. They don't trust him. He's being watched pretty much around the clock. If Hill finds out who he is- well, I hear there are hungry fish around in these waters."

He had left out that an Interpol agent was also nearby. Nick would hardly be able to take care of Barnes, too busy making sure he didn't get himself killed.

"What's your status?"

"We're fine. As long as the Bahamian police doesn't have a leak, no one knows we're cops. We may get an introduction to Hill."

"To go undercover? Caine doesn't have the experience."

"I'll go alone then, if necessary."

"Out of the question. It's too dangerous."

"I think I've done worse in Miami."

"Yeah, well, you're not in Miami now and not under Miami supervision either. Stay where you are for now, keep your heads low. I need to talk to my supervisors. I'll call you back."

Rico hung up.

"For now, we're staying," Rico relayed to his partners. "No further instructions."

"We could make some up," Sonny pointed out.

"Like what?"

"We need eyes on Hill; see what we're dealing with."

"And how do we do that?" Simon wanted to know.

Sonny shrugged. "I hear you can catch a bonefish or two in the Bights."

A grin spread on Rico's face. "And Hill's residence just happens to be on the shore of the South Bight."

"There is that. We'll need a smaller boat; fishing rods we can get from the Vitus."

Their boat bobbed softly on the water. Sonny and Simon each held fishing rods in their hands, the blonde actually fishing, the New Yorker just holding his line in the water. But who knew, perhaps he'd make a catch as well; it wasn't not as if fishing involved much more than that anyway from what Rico had seen. They spent the whole afternoon "fishing". Rico watched the house through his binoculars, switching with Sonny and Simon from time to time.

They didn't catch sight of the man himself. In that respect at least, the afternoon was uneventful. They counted guards instead, big guys toting big guns, and surveyed the grounds of the estate. Walls protected it from at least two sides, the third beyond what they could see; the house was only accessibly by boat and thus a wooden jetty had been built. Three boats were tied to the wooden posts, none of them the large yacht they had been looking for so long. It was probably too large for the Bights and somewhere else instead.

Sonny did catch a couple of fish, and they decided to grill them at the cottage for dinner. They had brought plenty of drinks from Miami, so they didn't need to go to a minuscule, over-prized supermarket. It was a better end to a day which hadn't given them much.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The next day, Rico woke to Sonny shaking his shoulder.

"Get up. We've got visitors," the blond urged him. He was only dressed in shorts, and seemed to have just gotten up himself.

Rico was still half asleep, but Sonny's instructions brought him to a sitting position within a second. "What?"

"Don't know. Get dressed and bring your guns."

"Simon?"

"Waking him next."

The cottage had two bedrooms and a studio couch in the living room. Sonny had taken the couch and Rico and Simon the bedrooms.

Their 'visitors' as Sonny had called them, were five men best described as thugs. On taking a closer look, Rico recognized at least one of them as a guard on Hill's estate. They were dressed in blue suits which bulged badly on their sides where they wore their gun holsters and all five of them wore sunglasses. They kept their hands clasped together in front of their bodies, not drawing their guns as if to show that they didn't mean any harm.

Rico cautiously stepped outside while Sonny and Simon stayed inside behind a window with all men in their sight.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" Rico asked.

"We're here to extend an invitation from Mr. Hill. Mr. Burnett and he are acquainted and Mr. Hill would be pleased to welcome him in his home."

Rico didn't know whether to sigh with relief or stop breathing all together. Burnett. That was unexpected.

It may have been phrased as an 'invitation', but refusal didn't seem to be an option faced with five gorillas. They agreed and fifteen minutes later they were on a boat on its course to David Hill's estate. The man himself greeted them over his breakfast table.

"Mr. Burnett! What a surprise to see you again! It's been such a long time!"

They shook hands. Before they had left the house, Sonny had been forced to admit to the other two men that he _didn't_ know Hill – but apparently Hill knew him, which left only two possibilities: one, that Sonny Burnett's reputation had somehow reached him and that he knew what Sonny looked like, or two, and Rico was apprehensive that this one was the case, that David Hill and Sonny Burnett had met sometime after the fateful explosion which had injured his former partner so badly that he had lost his memories and actually _believed_ that he was a criminal – with devastating consequences they had been forced to deal with for a long time afterwards.

Now, Hill had implied that he had seen Sonny before, which left only the second possibility. He hoped, Sonny was somehow able to play this off even without knowing how and when they had met, and that Burnett's reputation was still as bad as it should be.

"Nearly five years now, if I'm correct?" Sonny remarked. It was as good a way as any to find what was apparently their common ground.

"True. I was worried you might not recognize me, after all we were only briefly introduced. Would you like coffee or tea? I hear you have not had breakfast yet."

"Hard to have breakfast when your … goons chase us out of bed."

Hill laughed easily. "I'm sorry that my men made a rather unfortunate impression. But, you understand, I'm a man of business. And so are you, or at least were the last time we met. I was honestly surprised when I heard that you met with a new employee of mine."

"Suspicious much?"

Their host merely laughed again. "Why don't we talk about that later? Please, introduce your friends to me."

Sonny smirked humorlessly. "Dave, meet Ricardo Cooper, one of my oldest and most reliable business friend, and a contact of his, Simon Neal."

The three men shook hands.

"Pleasure, Mr. Hill," Rico said.

Simon remained mute.

What followed was a breakfast buffet up to a five-star-hotel's standards. Simon didn't seem comfortable eating with a drug kingpin, but Rico thought that he hid it well. If he didn't know his partner, he wouldn't have been able to tell. Sonny was still as good at doing small talk with criminals as when they had worked together. Rico threw in a couple of sentences here and there.

Despite his claims that they would talk about business only after breakfast, Hill did make a few inquiries aimed at finding out their purpose without being blatant about it. Rico managed to evade a question about his and Sonny's current business, but did note that they had been 'business partners on and off for different deals."

They ended their meal with a cigar, which Simon accepted but Sonny and Rico declined. Sonny had stopped smoking years ago.

"Why don't you tell us, Dave, why we're here?" Sonny requested.

Hill grinned. "Well, you must understand that one of my now former employees I put a lot of trust in has recently proven himself unworthy of it."

"He wouldn't have been the cause of the fireworks down in the Keys, would he?" Rico put in.

The other man laughed easily. "Oh you heard of that?"

"We happened to be nearly uncomfortably close."

Hill waved it off. "My apologies if it got a bit hot. As I said, he proved to be untrustworthy. And I'm not so foolish as to implicitly trust my newest acquaintance, Mr. Freeman."

"So you have him watched," Sonny concluded. "I thought that the pit bulls across the street from his house might be yours. Not that I was worried."

"No? As I said, I was surprised to recognize you and now I can't help wondering what you're doing here on Andros. I hadn't heard your name in a long time."

"Would have surprised me if you had. I've been out."

"Oh, really? At your age, men are just beginning to rise in the ranks."

"I was never one to work regularly for others." On second thought he added: "Fort Lauderdale was an exception, and a short-lived one at that."

Hill nodded. "I heard. What brought you out of well-deserved retirement then?"

"My friends Cooper and Neal here are interested in some business. And I owed Cooper a favor."

"And what kind of business?"

Now Rico took over. "We heard that New York's demand for South American crystal didn't get satisfied. And from what I understand, Cloud was handling your business up there."

"Why go to Freeman then?"

"We heard that he could get us an introduction to someone who could supply us with a share. To be honest, he never mentioned a name. If we had known it was you, I would have asked my friend Burnett to do the introductions."

"I'm glad I was able to make your acquaintance earlier, but I'm not quite sure whether we'll actually do business together. I choose my business partners very carefully."

"If it helps," Sonny spoke up, "I vouch for them."

"I'll think about it and let you know."

"Don't you want to hear our offer?" Rico attempted to insist.

Hill shook his head. "That's not necessary. As I said, I'll let you know."

Just then, Barnes strode out of the house. Apparently he had already seen them, as he made a beeline for their table and he didn't look happy.

"What's going on?" He demanded.

Rico was just glad he didn't say: 'Who are they?'

"I was just talking to your friends," Hill replied, seemingly unconcerned. But Rico knew how sharply the man was watching Barnes' reaction. The New Yorker hoped feverishly that luck was on their side and the detective wouldn't inadvertently screw it all up.

Barnes didn't immediately reply. His jaw was tight, his teeth probably near grinding.

"I was going to introduce them to you once I'd checked them out," he finally said.

Sonny and Rico exchanged a brief look, seemingly without emotion, but the two men knew each other well and agreed silently that this was the best answer Barnes could have given. Now if only Hill didn't start prying.

The older man shrugged. "I happened to already know Mr. Burnett."

"Oh, really?"

"We met briefly a couple of years ago by chance. But we never had the chance to do business. Perhaps this will change this time."

He gave Sonny a significant nod.

The southerner chuckled. "I'm just here for the introductions and perhaps for transport. Nothing else."

"Maybe I can change your mind on that," Hill merely replied.

Rico's mind was racing. Clearly Hill was a lot more interested in Sonny than in him and Simon. It was at least something and would hopefully give them the chance to stay close to Hill for as long as necessary. They needed a plan, and they needed it soon.

They were allowed to leave after nearly another hour. One of Hill's men – and either it was only one because Hill didn't think they were dangerous or because he considered himself to be so much more powerful – took them back to their cottage where Simon only dared breathe a sigh of relief once they had closed and locked the door behind them.

"Damn," he said.

Rico nodded but before he could say anything else, Sonny gestured at them to be still. He indicated the room, and Rico immediately understood. He wanted to hit himself for not having thought of it himself: Hill could have sent men to plant microphones in the house.

They swept the room as efficiently as they could without electronic aides. But, having done this themselves, they knew the best places to put bugs, and they soon came to the conclusion that there weren't any.

"I'm calling the office," Simon announced.

Sonny took out three beers from the fridge, handing one to Rico. They went outside and sat down in the shade of a palm tree, away from the hot noon sun. The chairs were cheap plastic and creaked when they sat down, but seemed sturdy enough. Sonny was wearing a pair of shades and rested his head against the backrest of his chair. He looked relaxed, but his former partner could see that he was tense, not enough to be noted by outsiders, but it was there. It would take a while for the adrenaline to wear off. Rico knew the feeling. Years ago in Miami, Sonny would have started to mix drinks already.

He roamed the area with his eyes but couldn't see anything suspicious. Nevertheless, the chances of Hill watching them somehow were high.

Simon stepped out on the porch, picking up his beer on the way and approached them. His expression was serious, but not enough to worry Rico.

"We've got our orders: get Barnes back to New York however we can, arrest him if we must."

His partner nodded. He had expected something like that.

The phone rang anew. Simon gave an annoyed sigh but went back inside. After a moment, he called out:

"Get in here, it's important."

When the other two men had arrived, Simon pointed to the phone and explained:

"It's Nick."

He was already on speaker.

"Freeman is still here," Nick reproached them.

"We know," Simon replied. "He refuses to come back. We've got instructions now to arrest him if necessary."

Nick snorted. "Well, hard luck: Freeman has a room in Hill's mansion now. Without Hill agreeing to it, he's not going anywhere. But listen, my deal with Hill is going down in five days. And if everything works out the way it's supposed to that will be his last day of freedom."

"What exactly is your business with him about? We tried to get Hill interested in a drug deal, but didn't get anywhere."

"Oh yes, I heard about your meeting."

Simon raised a silent eyebrow at his companions. The other men shrugged. They didn't know how the Interpol agent had obtained the information, or even their phone number. As to the former, he most likely had a snitch with access to Hill.

"But he's interested in Burnett isn't he? Go with that. I think he may be looking for a successor for Cloud, and he doesn't trust Freeman."

"Why would he trust me more?" Sonny inquired.

"How am I supposed to know? Just use it however you can. We've ordered weapons, so you can have the drugs. But remember: you've only got five days and the sooner you get Freeman out of there, the happier I am."

"Got it," Rico said. "Thanks for the heads-up."

Nick hung up.

"Right," Sonny began. "This means that it's best if you two," he pointed at Rico and Simon, "concentrate on Barnes. You have to convince him to leave the estate with you and go back to New York; it will seem natural, since Hill thinks you know him. I, in the meantime, will schmooze up to the big guy and keep him off your backs."

"Are you sure?" Rico asked. "You'll be alone and if you're in danger, we might not be there immediately."

The blond gave him an impatient look. "I've done dangerous missions on my own before. It may not be ideal, but it's what we've got."

Rico still didn't look happy. Sonny patted his shoulder and grinned at him.

"Come on, partner, have some faith."

At last, the other man nodded.

That afternoon, Sonny got a call from David Hill inviting him to a party the same night at his estate. Apparently, it would be a big event dozens of people had been invited to. On asking, Sonny managed to obtain an invite for "Cooper" and "Neal" as well; they expected that both Barnes and Nick would be there.

The party was indeed big. A lot of people had come taking their boats, and Sonny had a hard time finding space for their own rented power boat. The gun-toting goons had disappeared, or at least at first glance. Taking a closer look, they noted that the guards carried the guns holstered under their suit jackets.

Waiters of a catering service served drinks and small snacks to the guests and the three men took advantage of it. Carrying a glass of sparkling wine or rum helped avoid any further offers. They split up to have a look around the premises as much as they could under the guise of party guests. Sonny took the house, Rico and Simon the garden. Inside, the guests were only allowed to access the ground floor. The former VICE detective decided to save it for later, if necessary. Most of the guests mingled in small groups around bars which were installed in almost every room. In a corner, Sonny spied a few guests arranging white lines on a table - of course a drug kingpin's entertainment night wouldn't be complete without a few party favors, courtesy of the host himself.

He turned to move on and spied Hill approaching.

"Interested?" Hill inquired, indicating the drug party with a nod of his head.

"Thanks, but no. I don't indulge."

"Strictly business, hn?"

"Being good at business requires keeping your head clear," the blond remarked.

"True, true." Hill led him through the living room towards another bar. "As I'm sure you can imagine, I've made a few inquires about you, Mr. Burnett."

"Ah," Sonny made. He had no idea what the final verdict on the streets was about Burnett. They had gone in entirely unprepared for taking on their former undercover names again.

"What I've heard was... interesting to say the least. You've been involved with many interesting people, always coming out on top when they fell. You've shown yourself to be smart, calm, business-oriented - all qualities I know to appreciate. It makes me wonder all the more what made you retire."

"It pays to know when to stop. And the best time is usually when things are looking up. In my experience, people who thought they were moving up, very quickly found themselves going down instead - and often ended up in prison. I'm not interested in a long-term stay in one of Uncle Sam's all-inclusive hotels."

Hill laughed. "I see. Your connection with Mr. Cooper must be very good indeed then to come back."

Sonny shrugged. "It was meant as a small favor, nothing more."

"Very good friends then?" The look the older man was giving him was searching.

The southerner simply didn't know what exactly the other man was looking for. So he merely said, "Yes," accompanied by an empty grin. At worst, Hill would think Rico and him were a bit more than friends. It wouldn't be the first time.

Rico and Simon had split with Rico taking the western half and the younger man the eastern half. Simon had already stumbled on three couples in various states of undress; most of them hadn't cared and Simon had seen worse at the precinct back home. It still felt unreal to be walking through green tropics smelling the ocean instead of through grey streets breathing in exhaust gasses. His partner had taken it all in stride, both the scenery as well as the fact that they were now on the premises of a crime lord, and he had actually looked as if he was okay with it. Simon definitely wasn't, but if he thought about it too long, he'd get twitchy and getting twitchy when he didn't need it ultimately made him aggressive.

And, look at that, he thought, success! There was Tom Barnes aka Tommy Freeman.

"What are _you_ doing here?" The man asked.

"I'll give you three guesses; first two don't count," Simon shot back, glaring at him.

Barnes glanced around them. They were pretty much alone. People could see them, but none of them were in earshot. He stepped closer to Simon and hissed:

"I told you to get out! Now Hill's got you by the short and curlies!"

"What makes you think we don't have him by 'the short and curlies'?"

Barnes snorted. "As if."

"We're not the ones under house arrest on his estate. How did that happen by the way?"

"How do you even know about that?" He sputtered.

"Just answer the question!"

The other man grumbled. "Hill's a paranoid bastard, that's all."

"Right. That's all. You're in a pretty fucked up situation here! I'm not going to lie to you, Lieutenant Morgan and the bosses ordered us to get you back to New York. In handcuffs if necessary! But you know what? Your chances are a lot better with us because at least you'd be alive!"

"Don't you get it? I'm not leaving until I've done what I came here for."

"I think what _you_ don't get is that this isn't the Wild West where you can just take the law into your own hands."

"He killed my partner!"

Simon, who had unconsciously been crowding the other detective, backed off in surprise. The outburst had come completely unexpected, apparently even to the man himself, because he scanned the area to see if anyone had heard them. But the party went on like before, no one was even looking at them – although, at second glance, Simon thought he could see someone at one of the windows upstairs. But he was unable to take a closer look, as the person disappeared.

He was confused.

"You don't have a partner," Simon said. He knew that for certain. Barnes seemed to prefer it that way and if he needed back-up, he took whoever was available.

"Forget it," Barnes pressed out between gritted teeth. He strode away. Simon considered following him, but for one he feared that it would attract attention – and especially that of whoever had seen them from the window – and for another he didn't think that it would help in any way. The other detective wouldn't speak about it but at least they had an idea now of Barnes' motive.

He finished his round of the garden and met Rico between the boats and the pool behind the house, where the party seemed to be centered. He told him quickly what he had heard from Barnes and seen around.

"Great job," Rico complimented him. "Let's go find Sonny."

They found him just as he was exiting the house. He looked thoughtful and was still carrying his drink. He discreetly watered a plant with it and the three men wandered away from the biggest group of partiers for a bit of privacy.

Simon repeated his earlier findings and Rico briefly described what he had seen of the gardens. He had walked them as far as the walls enclosing Hill's property, evading the guards, which away from the party were not at all as discreet as their colleagues near the house. The New Yorker had been forced to come to the conclusion that the estate was so well-protected that it would be hard to leave once imprisoned there. Sonny only nodded.

"Hill invited us on his yacht for a tour tomorrow," he said to Rico.

"All of us? So he might be interested in dealing with us after all?" Simon inquired.

"No," Sonny replied, "Us as in Rico and me."

Rico raised an eyebrow at him. "How did that happen?"

Sonny grimaced. "Hill seems to have taken a liking to me. I still don't know how we met or what it is that makes him believe we'd be great friends, but I think he's trying to recruit me."

"So why invite Rico along?" Simon inquired.

"'Cause Cooper and I have such a special relationship," Sonny deadpanned. Where Simon heard a joke, he sounded perfectly serious to Rico. "Come on, let's blow this pop stand. I want to know who this partner of Barnes was."

"Leaving already?" A British voice interrupted them. It was Nick. He had dressed up in a tailored suit and was carrying some blue-colored drink with a bright pink umbrella in it and a kiwi slice on the rim of the glass.

"Yeah," Sonny replied. "Busy day tomorrow."

"Mr. Hill taking you on his yacht tour?" The agent asked, tone as casual as if he was speaking about a good friend. He wouldn't break cover even in this almost certainly unobserved moment.

"He's invited me and Rico. Are you joining us as well?"

"I am, indeed."

Sonny smiled at him. "I look forward to it. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Nick Peck, pleasure to meet you, Mr…"

"Burnett, Sonny Burnett. This is my friend Ricardo Cooper and an associate of his, Simon Neal."

They shook hands.

"Well, I wouldn't want to keep you gentlemen. I'll see you tomorrow." He gave them a parting smile as anyone would give to a stranger and wandered off.

It was time to go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Back at the cottage, they did another sweep of the rooms. Sonny had retrieved a device from one of their contacts back at Miami VICE that still worked and helped them make absolutely sure that Hill had not used this occasion either to place a bug or two in their home.

Then Rico called the precinct in New York. Naturally, their boss was not in, but Rico asked a colleague to take out Barnes' file and look for a partner killed on duty. Half an hour later, they had their answer: nearly four years ago, when Tom Barnes had been part a patrol officer, his partner Jennifer Melton had been killed. It had happened off-duty, and the exact events were fuzzy, but apparently Barnes and Melton had arranged to have dinner together, to which Barnes had been late. He arrived to find Melton bleeding heavily of three bullets to her chest and she had died before the paramedics had arrived. Her murder had never been solved so they couldn't tell how Barnes had come to the conclusion that David Hill had murdered her.

Simon went to bed soon after, and Rico and Sonny, by mutual, silent agreement, went outside to sit on the porch for a bit longer.

"Think there was something between Barnes and Melton?" Sonny asked after a while.

"Probably," Rico replied, knowing they agreed on that assessment.

He also knew that Sonny wouldn't have started this conversation just to settle that. He waited patiently. Finally, Sonny leant forward in his chair to rest his elbows on his legs.

"You know, some stuff from when I thought I was Burnett is still fuzzy. I've racked my brain, trying to remember where I could have met Hill. Sometimes I see flashes, but I'm not sure whether they're actual memories."

"It would be good if you remembered. But if you don't, well, you don't. We did okay so far without knowing."

"It's risky," Sonny argued.

Rico didn't reply. "When I thought you were dead, I did everything I could to find out what happened and who did it."

"Would you have killed them?" Belatedly, Sonny realized that that was not a question he should have asked.

"Yes," the other man replied, completely serious.

Sonny believed him, too. It wouldn't be the first time Rico took his revenge personally, and that probably said something about them and their time in Miami.

"We've got to keep in mind that Barnes will do anything to avenge Melton," the New Yorker continued, perhaps trying to leave the dangerous territory of their own past or simply getting back on topic. "Even if it costs him his life."

"I agree." The blond nodded.

"Be prepared for anything then," Rico concluded needlessly.

The next day was hot. It reminded Rico of a heat wave they had gone through more than once in Miami. At sea, there was a breeze at least, and the New Yorker would have found it refreshing if he hadn't been in the situation he was in. When they had gone aboard and taken stock of the people with them, he had muttered to Sonny:

"This has got to be either a joke or a trap; there are nearly more cops on this boat than drug dealers. Usually that only happens in court."

Sonny had nodded and given a bland smile when Hill came towards them. Rico had watched him since then, trying not to let him out of sight and still be surreptitious about it. Their host gave no sign of either knowing who his guests really were nor of feeling uncomfortable in any way. Quite the opposite in fact.

He introduced Nick to them again, mentioning that they were about to do business soon, Barnes was there, and some of Hill's bodyguards.

"Why don't you leave Hill to me and watch Barnes?" Sonny suggested, leaning against the railing next to his partner.

Rico gave a nod. "Alright."

And they parted again. At lunch time, they were offered a generous meal, and they sat around the table together, Hill joking and telling harmless stories, not even mentioning drugs, weapons or any other business. The only one disinclined to humor him was Barnes, which made Sonny wonder whether the man had a death wish after all – not that planning to kill a drug kingpin was a way to ensure a long life. His whole behavior pointed to him planning to do something today, no matter the cost.

Rico hated the waiting. It was weighed him down more than any other part of an operation. Sonny looked cool and collected. Once, when he passed Nick, the southerner had whispered to him to be careful. The agent hadn't given even a nod to show he understood, but Sonny knew anyway that he had.

The yacht was to return to its port around late afternoon, but not long after lunch Sonny realized that they were unlikely to make it. Instead of slowly turning around and going back to Andros, the ship continued onwards. Sonny, Rico, Nick, Barnes and Hill were still seated at the table and making conversation. Sonny made a casual remark about their course to their host and the older man frowned a bit, but laughed it off.

"My captain must have forgotten our route. Don't worry, Sonny, I'll go remind him right now."

"You do that."

He excused himself and made his way towards the cockpit. Sonny and his partner exchanged looks. A slow blink on Rico's part assured him that the other man was ready.

Unexpectedly, Barnes, who sat across from them and was fiddling with his fingers, spoke up. "Sorry, boys. I'd have loved to spare you this but I'm not letting a perfect opportunity escape."

He made to rise but with a quick move, Nick withdrew a gun from under his suit jacked and pointed it at the New Yorker cop.

"Why don't you stay a bit longer then?" It wasn't actually a question.

Sonny and Rico sat up. That was unexpected. The blond opened his mouth to say something, perhaps to try and calm the situation, but just then a shot rang out. The two former VICE detectives jumped off their chairs. Nick glanced back at where the shot had come from, somewhere behind them, and it was long enough: Barnes jumped for his arm and attempted to wrestle the gun from the agent's grip, but with a jerk of his hand, Nick threw it to the side onto the deck instead. The weapon nearly skidded into the water. Another two, successive shots rang out.

By now, Rico and Sonny had retrieved their backup weapons from identical ankle holsters. Barnes pushed past them, grabbed the gun off the floor and ran towards the cabin. Rico and Sonny raised theirs at Barnes' back, but the New Yorker cop wasn't even paying any attention to them, and they didn't want to actually shoot.

"Bloody hell," Nick cursed.

Sirens starting wailing. One of Hill's guards turned around the corner, carrying an M9 and Sonny fired.

Just then, Hill stumbled out of the door he had disappeared through before. He was bleeding from the shoulder or chest area, it wasn't quite clear which. He halted when he saw Barnes. Later, Rico would find it weird that none of them spoke before they started shooting at each other. He and Sonny couldn't risk shooting, as Barnes and Hill were standing too close to each other. It was over quickly, too. They dropped to the floor, having given off something like five shoots in total. Due to their proximity, it was unlikely either one had missed.

The sirens, Rico realized only now, stemmed from three police boats.

"I put them on alert," Nick explained. "They've been keeping an eye on us since we left port. Come on, why don't you and your partner gather up everyone else still on board."

Sonny nodded. He checked Barnes' pulse while Sonny checked Hill over, and came to the conclusion that the two men were dead. They moved on to round up the rest of Hill's men.

Simon was waiting for them impatiently when they finally reached port. Rico and Sonny shook hands with Nick to see him off, the Interpol agent probably thinking that if they never saw each other again it would still be too soon.

"It's done," Rico told his partner.

The other man looked at the ship. "Where's Barnes?"

"Dead."

He breathed a sigh. "Damn." Shaking his head, he added: "Couldn't have been smarter, could he?"

Rico merely shrugged, refraining from commenting. He wasn't the best person to remark on such things.

"Let's go home," Sonny said.

Simon nodded. "Good idea."

Under any other circumstances, Simon would have loved to spend a vacation here. Now, he just wanted to go back home.

They couldn't leave Andros immediately, of course. They had to arrange for Barnes' body to be transported to New York, phone their supervisors and give a report, then type it up ready to be filed. Simon arranged plane tickets and while Rico declined for himself, he also told his partner to go ahead. He wanted to take the boat with Sonny back to Miami. Simon couldn't say that he was surprised.

The trip to Miami was their way of relaxing. But it felt like a drawn-out goodbye, and Rico hated that. They spent the time fishing, tanning or drinking a couple of beers – nothing to get drunk of because falling into the ocean while drunk was _not_ the smartest thing to do.

"Ever thought of taking a break?" Sonny asked him one night after lunch. The sun was burning down on the deck and the two men had stripped down to swim shorts. The southerner was watching his former partner speculatively from behind his shades.

Rico shrugged. "Sometimes."

"Maybe somewhere south? Where the water is warm and the drinks are cold?"

The other man chuckled. "Maybe," he replied. He knew what Sonny had said back then word for word and this wasn't it. But it was close enough. "Maybe." After another pause he asked: "Where's your phone? I think I have to call it in if I'm planning to extend my absence."

* * *

_This story was written for the case story big bang on livejournal. If you go to my livejournal (username: trollmela) you will find a link to my artist NickyGabriel, who created some truely amazing art for the story._

**___Thank you for reading. _**


End file.
